


Safe and Ignorant

by guiltyandcheap



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Assisted Suicide, Character Death, Codependency, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), Controlling Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Obsessed with Sam Winchester, Death, Depressed Sam Winchester, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Isolation, M/M, No Castiel (Supernatural), No Smut, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive Dean Winchester, Possessive Behavior, Quote: Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically irrationally erotically codependent on each other, Song: Pet (A Perfect Circle), Suicidal Dean Winchester, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltyandcheap/pseuds/guiltyandcheap
Summary: TW: graphic su*cide description“I’ll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason.” - Pet (A Perfect Circle)Summary:Dean Winchester is obsessed with Sam. He’s made Sam believe that he’s the only one who will ever truly love him. Sam lives for Dean’s attention to only be focused on him. Nothing truly matters unless Dean witnesses it, so Sam never wants Dean to take his eyes off of him. Sam decides he wants to die. He needs Dean front row for that, too. He wants Dean and himself to bleed out next to each other. They’re too obsessed with each other to be alive, living as separate individuals.“There’s nothing worse than the way that you look at me because I know you glance at me and think about how many different ways you’d be willing to damn your soul for me.”
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Safe and Ignorant

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by the song “Pet” (A Perfect Circle).
> 
> There’s quite a few disturbing/triggering themes here, so please read the tags. I would appreciate any feedback :)  
> ALSO!! Castiel does not exist in this universe. There are some references to season 5 in here, but the story takes place in a more season one-like setting.

_**“...Pay no mind to what other voices say, they don't care about you, like I do...** _

_**Stay safe from pain, and truth, and choice, and other poison devils.** _

_**See, they don't give a fuck about you, like I do.** _

_**Just stay with me, safe and ignorant.** _

_**Go back to sleep.** _

_**Go back to sleep...** _

_**..I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons.** _

_** I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason.  
** _

_**I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices, son.** _

_**They're one in the same, I must isolate you.** _

_**Isolate and save you from yourself.” - Pet by A Perfect Circle** _

“Tonight, I want you to grab your favorite knife, and slice my wrists open. Then I want you to slash yours open too. I want to lay in the Impala and bleed out next to you, Dean. I don’t want us to be here anymore.”

They’d never had a normal life. Dean always got that, he was never confused about how fucked up his life was. For a long time, he’d been upset that he never got to have the things that normal people have. Dean always walked around like he didn’t care that he’d never graduate or go to prom or marry. You’d have thought he was content being strange.

The truth is, his heart ached every time he watched a normal person have an experience that he should’ve had. The white picket fence had always been out of reach for Dean, but he was always able to accept that that life just wasn’t for him. It used to hurt. There was a time when he’d feel a bit empty about it. He used to mourn the life he never had. Right now, though, Dean doesn’t feel like he’s missing anything. He’s not wishing things were different, he knows this is how it’s meant to be. He’s not sad anymore about the things he never had, he’s ready to die for the person who was everything he did have.

Dean’s spent his entire life protecting Sam. He’d always wanted to give Sam anything he longed for. And now Sam’s longing to not be here.

Dean wanted to beg Sam to want to be alive. He wanted to tell him that everything was okay and that it’s gonna get better. But this was different. This was exhausted. This was broken. This didn’t want to be fixed.

Sam wasn’t a suicidal teen who could be “saved”. Sam was just tired, weak, and ready to be gone. He’d looked at his older brother with empty eyes, pleading with Dean to let him leave. He was desperate for Dean to allow him to no longer be here. His voice was cracked and Dean knew that Sam was barely here, regardless.

Sam Winchester, _the boy with the demon blood_. This world had picked at every little piece of Sam until he was left an empty shell. Most of Sam had died a long time ago, but his body was physically functioning so people refused to acknowledge what was no longer there. He knew his only intended purpose was to be a vessel for the devil, anyways. The boys had always known that they were simply a means to an end. This was their end.

Being deemed _the righteous man_ had always seemed like a joke that Dean never found funny. Now, more than ever, it remains unfunny. Even God was betting on him, but this is his end. He’s chosen it.

Dean had always been jealous of the things that made Sam happy. He knew it was twisted, but he wanted to be the only cause of that spark in Sam’s eye. Jessica, college, a normal life, and all the other things were distractions from Dean. Dean didn’t like Sam being drawn away from him. As selfish as it is, Dean wants Sam to be just as disgustingly obsessed with him as he is. Dean wants to be his only protecter, his only provider, his only _everything_. He’d known that Jess and all the other things Sam longed for could give his little brother things that he would never be able to provide. It killed him.

But this... Dean could give him this.

Dean had spent his entire life loving this kid. He had spent his entire life protecting him in all the wrong ways; he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he always fell short. Dean gave Sam everything, and it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because Sam is in front of him, begging Dean to snuff out the life that was never adequate.

Dean had always kept Sam close. Dean always tried to isolate Sam, and protect him from the things he knew didn’t care about Sam nearly as much as he did. He didn’t want Sam near anyone who wouldn’t die for him. He didn’t want Sam near anyone who _would_ die for him either. Dean refused to have competition. Nothing was allowed to love Sam as devotedly as he did. Nothing was allowed to give Sam the things that he couldn’t.

Dean could do this for Sam, but he needed to try to keep hearing the kid’s voice for as long as he could.

“Sammy... why don’t you want us to be here anymore?” Dean couldn’t stop himself from asking. He knew the answer, he just wanted to know if Sam did.

“You’re the only thing I care about- the only thing I _ever will_ care about. I’ve got nothing left to see in this world. I just want to leave it with you next to me. I’m so caught in the fucking middle all the time, Dean, I can’t even- fuck.. I just, I can’t. Please don’t make me fucking stay here,” Sam sobbed, emotion finally playing across his dull features.

“Caught in the middle about what?” Dean didn’t expect to get any feelings out of Sam. He’d expected Sam to remain blank. Sam was always blank when he’d made up his mind. Dean couldn’t help but feel uneasy now.

“I-... fuck, I only feel like I exist when you’re looking at me. Nothing matters unless you think it does, nothing I’ve done is real unless _you’ve_ witnessed it. That sounds fucking crazy, I don’t care, **_I’d do anything to make sure you never take your eyes off of me_** , but I can’t fucking stand when you look at me,” Sam huffed, trying to explain something that could never make sense. “There’s nothing worse than the way that you look at me because _**I know you glance at me and think about how many different ways you’d be willing to damn your soul for me**_. I can’t fucking take it- Dean, you’re the one thing I love but you’re too willing to die for me and I can’t take it. I need us to die next to each other, I need this to end, I need to see this end, I need us to _let_ each other end. Please, make it stop, let us stop. _Please_.”

Dean nodded, swallowing hard. There was nothing to say to that. He’s destroyed Sam in every way possible. Dean at least owes him this.

-

They’d gotten in the impala, and driven to a field. They didn’t really want this to go down in a motel parking lot.

Dean looked at Sam and hesitated. He didn’t know what to say to him. Once this was over with, it was over with. Would they share a heaven? Be cellmates in hell? May as well have been sent to purgatory with all the monsters that they’re no longer different from. Surely they couldn’t go to the empty. But this felt empty.

The way Dean feels about Sam has always scared him. He could never fully understand it, much less explain it. He loves Sam so intensely, he thinks he might actually hate him because this feeling is too aggressive and overbearing to be love. Sam is so fucking _everything_ that it physically hurts Dean. Dean can never spend enough time with him, listen to his voice enough, or look at him enough to dull the ache of _needing_ to be _closer_. He always clenched his teeth like he was trying to not physically combust under the strain of _never being close enough_. Dean can’t fucking breathe because he’s existing as an individual separate from Sam. When Sam’s sleeping in his bed and Dean’s got his arms wrapped around him- it’s terrifying. Because Dean’s body is pressed as tightly as humanly possible against Sam’s, and he’s sure that he must be hurting him, but he’s _still not. close. enough._ Dean’s afraid because he knows he could probably crawl inside Sam’s skin and still feel too far away from him. This needs to end now, but that doesn’t make it easy.

Dean’s mind wouldn’t stop screaming at him.

**_How can I kill the only thing I love?_ **

**_I hate him for this. I forced him to stay with me but I wanted him to get away and have a normal life. I held him captive but I needed him to escape. He didn’t. I hate him for ever letting me touch him._ **

There’s still nothing to say.

There’s nothing that could make this right. Everything about the Winchesters’ lives were fucked up and downright sinful from the moment they were born until the very end.

Dean hates himself for secretly wanting this. No one can threaten his title as Sam’s protecter anymore. No one will have the chance to love him better. Dean can keep him _safe and ignorant_ , continue dictating Sam’s life because he’s ending it now, on _his terms_. This is how he can keep Sam safe from harm. _Safe from freedom._

Dean pries open the console, grabbing his knife from it. He flips it open, the moonlight catching on the blade.

Sam is turned to face him, sleeves already rolled up. If Sam has any apprehensions about this, it doesn’t show. He looks relaxed. **This is the worst thing Sam’s ever done to Dean.**

“Is this what you want?” Dean asks. He knows the answer, he just needs to hear it. He needs permission cross this line.

Sam’s face remains stoic, and he nods. This is the last decision he’ll ever make, and he refuses to even verbalize it. They both look each other in the eyes, wearing matching expressions that say, _“I’m terrified to my fucking core of how far we’re willing to go for each other.”_

Dean grabs Sam wrist, cradling it in his hand as he lowers the blade to his little brother’s skin. Dean’s hand is gentle as he holds Sam’s wrist.

Those hands have been trained to inflict pain, but they treat Sam like he’s fragile. Sam’s thinking about how damaged and disgusting his soul is. He’s thinking about how the softness of Dean’s hands should be focused elsewhere, on anyone but him. Dean’s thinking that he’s far too filthy to put his hands on someone as pure as Sam. He’s thinking about how his guilty hands have been coated in others’ blood too many times to count. He wishes he’d never touched Sam at all.

“ _Do it_ ,” Sam breathes out,” _And don’t take your fucking eyes off of me._ ”

Dean presses the blade against Sam’s wrist, putting pressure on it until he breaches the skin. Sam’s breath hitches but he refuses to make any sounds of pain. Dean pushes harder, dragging the knife along Sam’s wrist, severing all the right ( _wrong_ ) veins. Blood is gushing from Sam’s arm, and he only sighs in relief.

Dean is horrified at what he’s just done. He’s broken what he had sworn to protect. He wants to throw the blade out and patch Sam up, but he told Sam that he could do this for him, and he can. He slashes Sam’s other wrist, drawing the blade vertically down his arm.  _He hates him so fucking much_.  He’s holding both of Sam’s forearms as the blood seeps out. Silent tears stream from Sam’s eyes, but they’re tears of relief from the idea of everything finally being _over_.

“Thank you,” Sam croaks.

“Hey, _hey_ , Sammy...” Dean comforts Sam as the blood continues streaming,”It’s okay, baby brother,” his hand is messy with Sam’s blood, but he runs it through his brother’s hair anyways, cradling Sam’s head. “It’s all gonna be fine. I’m comin’ with you, right now, _here we go_.” Dean slices his wrists, going deeper than he did with Sam. He cut deep enough for Sam to die, he just didn’t cut as deep as he could have. He couldn’t force himself to do more than what was necessary.

They grabbed each other’s hands, watching the blood flow freely. _This is so wrong_. Their lives were so _wrong_. Sam wants to say he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know if he wants to be forgiven.

They don’t need to think about right and wrong anymore. There is no normal or strange anymore. There is no love or hate anymore. It all blends together as they bleed out, leaving a world that won’t remember them. The world never really mattered anyways. It was all background noise compared to each others’ voices. The only reason they’d lived at all was to hear the other rasp out their name.

It’s been days. It’s been hours. It’s been minutes. It’s actually only been seconds, but time isn’t a thing that had ever mattered to them either. It doesn’t matter what’s correct anymore, the only thing that matters is the way that Sam’s breath is stuttering right now.

“ _Ready to cross, Dean?_ ” Sam groans out. His voice holds a hint of a chuckle as he remembers Dean asking him the same thing before crossing the street. This is so much different, so much less innocent than that. His vision is starting to black out. He’s died a few times, he knows how it feels. But it’s comforting this time because he knows it’s permanent.

“ _Yeah, Sammy_.”

One moment, they were here, laying next to each other with matching wounds. The next moment, they were _gone_. Empty, broken, and dead. It’s hard to believe that these rotting bodies were once the intended vessels for angels, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore except for the fact that  **_ Dean never took his eyes off of Sam. _ **

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, I’d really appreciate some feedback!! :) I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading <3


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